


🍑🍑🍑 -OR- Mr. Peaches-and-Cream

by Arukou



Series: Tumblr Archive the Second [15]
Category: Avengers (Comics)
Genre: Anal Sex, But boy does that boy blush, Explicit Sexual Content, Inappropriate acts with fruit, M/M, Manscaping, Resolved Sexual Tension, Rimming, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:25:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23150131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arukou/pseuds/Arukou
Summary: Tony brings home a pack of high-end Japanese peaches with a little twist. They are quite...inspirational.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: Tumblr Archive the Second [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1043486
Comments: 6
Kudos: 148





	🍑🍑🍑 -OR- Mr. Peaches-and-Cream

Maybe bringing back the enormous peaches from Japan had been a subconscious thing on Tony’s part, but then again, maybe it hadn’t been. He’d been picking through the designer food court at Maruzen and the huge pink blush of peach fuzz had caught his eye. Peaches were a special treat, right? Especially when they bruised so easily coming up to New York from more southerly climates. Peaches would be a nice treat. And they were so…pink. Pinker than any American peach he’d ever seen. And…they were packed in underwear. No one had ever accused Tony of having good impulse control anyway. He had to have them.

Boxed up and down $400, Tony bore his peaches straight to the airport and onto his private jet, and within thirteen hours, they were in the Avengers mansion common kitchen, laid out for all and sundry to see. He took momentary pleasure in the bemused shock from Jan, Thor, and Hank, the disapproving sniff from Jarvis, and then promptly forgot about his huge, pink peaches. Until he came in later that night for coffee.

As he stepped into the kitchen, he beheld Steve, who immediately caught Tony in his azure blue gaze. He had a peach in hand, and his other hand was fingering the satin lining of the ridiculous box. The moment he had Tony’s attention, he moved into action. The hand that had been at the box rose and oh so slowly slid the panties down off the peach, hooking them on his finger and twirling them ponderously through the air. He’d chosen a bright red pair, and Tony’s eyes followed them round and round until another movement caught his attention. Steve had brought the peach to his face, lips to the fuzz, nose to the stem, and he was inhaling.

_Filthy_ , Tony’s brain supplied, but he barely had any blood left flowing in that direction anyway, so he just let the thought waft away. Steve’s eyes grew heavy, his obscenely long eyelashes drifting down until they hooded the last of the azure blue, and Tony could see the movement of his jaw, the only indication that he’d licked his lips. Bereft of a visual, Tony’s brain supplied the rest. Steve’s mouth _there_ , his fingers _there_ , complete with peach lube. Steve looked up through his lashes and Tony couldn’t have moved if Galactus himself were descending on Earth. He nosed the cleft of the peach and then licked it, licked again and then ever-so-gently bit at the giving flesh. _Steve’s teeth in my cheek, Steve’s tongue on my…_ Tony clamped off the thought.

Tony had never seen anyone eat so slowly or with such intent. Juice dripped down Steve’s chin, down his forearm. The heady scent of peach wafted toward Tony, sending him swaying as though he’d inhaled fairy ambrosia. All the while he was arrested in Steve’s gaze. At one point, Steve left off the fruit to lick at the juice on his arm, as meticulous as any cat, his tongue as pink as the peach skin, his expression self-satisfied, though a heady blush had blossomed across his cheeks and down his neck, disappearing beneath the collar of his T-shirt. When the last of the juice was gone, he returned to his prize, all the while still spinning that ridiculous pair of tiny panties on his finger.

An eternity later all that was left was the pit, and Steve popped it into his mouth, sucking at the flesh and juice, pushing it into his cheek to chew briefly, sucking and hollowing again. He extracted the pit, pursing his lips around it to catch the very last of the fruit, and Tony watched the way his lips went pink and wet with the effort. With an astounding precision, Steve placed the pit on the counter and looked up at Tony again, still through his lashes. Tony allowed himself to be frozen for all of three seconds before turning tail and bolting out of the kitchen, not waiting for Steve to speak.

He spent the next half hour in the shower, getting very friendly with his hand and wondering if the whole thing had been a jet-lag induced fever dream. Had that really happened? Had Steve really…gone down on a peach? In the kitchen? All while Tony watched? Surely not.

* * *

“What did I do wrong?” Steve moaned into his hands, trying desperately to hide the burning of his cheeks. “He was right there! Why didn’t I…?”

“Because you’re both the thickest men I’ve ever met?” Jan guessed, though her palm rubbed soothing circles up and down his back. “Steve, just go to his room. Bring lube and some condoms. Use your words. For all Tony knows, you’ve just got a thing for peaches.”

“But he was right. There.”

“Honey, I admire your gumption with our little peach panties, but I’m telling you, you’ve got to _tell_ Tony your feelings. In short simple words. Multiple times. He’ll never believe you’re into him if you don’t. He’s too self-deprecating for anything else.”

“I don’t know if I know how.”

“Are you Captain America or not? I think you can handle a little love confession. And besides, how else are you going to get that sweet ass?”

If Jan’s goal had been to shock him into action, she succeeded, because he gave her a dirty, affronted look. “I’m allowed to admire. Tony certainly does his squats. But if you want that ass to be yours, you have to _do_ something about it.”

“Right. Something. Right.”

Steve stood, hesitated a moment, and then crossed to his bedside table where he extracted the supplies Jan had mentioned. His entire face was firecracker red, but he marched resolutely to the door, refusing to be ashamed that he had sex and enjoyed it. “Go get him, honey,” Jan encouraged, and Steve managed a pained smile before he disappeared down the hall.

* * *

Tony was just getting ready to open his toybox and relive his peach fever dream when there was a knock at the door. He huffed a breath of frustration and then carefully slid his dresser drawer closed, cinching his robe a little more tightly as he crossed his bedroom. He expected Jarvis, though in hindsight, he couldn’t have said why. What he got instead was a broad chest, a flaming face, perfect blue eyes, tousled hair.

“Tony, hi, uh…hi.”

“Hi,” Tony managed, somehow bypassing the sudden and huge lump of nerves in his throat. 

“Could I have a word?”

Unable to cough up another word of his own, Tony stepped aside and gestured, welcoming Steve into his room. He was acutely aware of his freshly cleaned backside, of all the prep he’d done in the shower while thinking of a fervent night with a few old favorites. Steve was right _there_ , still blushing like a bride, head bowed, looking up through those damnable lashes.

“Jan says I’m being a coward, so I’m just gonna come right out and say it. I’d like to have a relationship. With you. A…uh, sexual relationship. And a romantic one. But, uh, I saw the peaches, and Jarvis said you brought them from Japan, and he had this… _tone_ , when he said it. It just got me thinking. And maybe…maybe I’m barking up the wrong tree. And if I am. That’s okay. Your friendship means the world to me. And I don’t want to ruin that friendship. But. I have feelings. For you. And I’m sorry if what I did in the kitchen made you uncomfortable. I don’t know what I was thinking. They were just…there. And so perfect. And the little panties. It made me think…well, it doesn’t matter what they made me think. I think that was pretty obvious. I mean, I was pretty obvious. But maybe I wasn’t? I–”

“Steve,” Tony finally managed to unfreeze, stepping forward to catch Steve’s flailing hands and stop his verbal vomit. “I…uh, yes? I mean, first. Could you pinch me? Just here?” He held out his arm expectantly and after a moment, Steve bowed to kiss his knuckles.

“I’m not gonna pinch you, Tony.”

“Then how do I know I’m not dreaming?”

“Maybe have a little faith?” Steve’s bashful expression had softened just a little, a smile hitching at his mouth, making him look a little more boyish. 

Tony hawed out one sad squeak of a laugh and then nodded. “Faith. Right. I’m very good at that.” But all the same, he dropped his arm, taking Steve’s hand again. “You…you really want me?”

“I absolutely do.”

“Not just for sex?”

“Not just for sex. I care for you so much, Tony. More than you can imagine.”

The very thought sent Tony’s head spinning, and he very nearly lost his balance right into Steve’s chest. He caught himself at the last moment and ended up holding the fabric of Steve’s shirt instead. “Well then, I’m yours.”

“Yeah?” Steve’s entire face lit up like a Christmas tree, and something in Tony swelled and went squishy. At the same time, he was aware of his low-level arousal, back after his gratuitous shower and prep. In answer, he maneuvered, pulling Steve toward Tony’s massive bed until the backs of his thighs hit the edge. He flopped down, trying not to feel self-conscious as his robe jostled loose and spilled open. After only a moment’s hesitation, Steve followed, kneeling onto the bed and kissing Tony.

For a first kiss, it was fairly tentative, both of them not quite sure of the reality of their surroundings, of the reality of their feelings, but then Steve moaned and drove down a little harder, urging Tony up the bed. “What,” he panted, his hands on either side of Tony’s head, “what do you want?” His hips were already driving down, a sweet delicious friction that had Tony longing for more.

“I should think that was obvious,” Tony mumbled against Steve’s mouth, his hands free to explore, and explore they did, mapping the muscles of Steve’s back, the perfect globes of his ass. “Come on, Mr. Peaches-and-Cream.”

Steve snorted and pulled back, studying Tony’s face as he caught his breath. “Yeah?”

“Hell yeah. I only wish I’d known ahead of time. I would’ve put on a nice pair of panties.”

“Next time,” Steve breathed, hustling to peel his shirt over his head. Tony was caught between the pleasure of watching Steve’s abs flex and the delicious warmth of the idea that there would be a _Next time_ , that Steve would want this with him again and again and again.

With his shirt gone, Steve dug into his pockets, producing several condoms and a small bottle of lube, which Tony plucked up curiously. He couldn’t help the laugh. He really couldn’t.

“Georgia peach?”

Tony was treated to the pleasure of watching Steve’s blush crawl down his chest to his nipples, but in retaliation, Steve loosened the robe belt, baring Tony to the humid air between them. “It’s…I…you underestimate how long I’ve been thinking about this.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve whispered, bowing to press the word into the skin of Tony’s scarred chest, the strangely smooth swatch of skin across his pecs. His hands rubbed hot trails up and down Tony’s thighs, urging them wider so Steve could settle between them. “Where’d…where’d all your hair go?” Steve murmured absently, sucking little bruises into Tony’s stomach. “I remember you had…”

“Waxed. Gone. Oh god,” Tony arched into the heat of Steve’s mouth, so glad he’d already come once that evening. All his dreams were coming true, it seemed, and even though he was half-afraid he’d wake to discover some nefarious super-villain had trapped him in a virtual reality, he was grateful all the same that he wouldn’t pop off the second Steve’s mouth moved south of the equator. 

Steve hummed thoughtfully into Tony’s skin and wriggled down the bed, one hand sliding beneath his own hips to undo the fly of his jeans and begin the process of shimmying free. 

“It’s strange. But nice. I’d love it either way, though.”

“Yeah?” Tony breathed, more and more of his brain focusing single-mindedly on the teeth that were now nipping at his belly-button.

“I remember all that hair on your chest, curly, cute.”

Tony gasped as Steve’s hands circled closer to where he most wanted them. “Could grow it back. For you. You might like–ah–everything down south though.”

“Oh?” Curiously, Steve propped himself up and took a proper look. When Tony had said he waxed, he meant everywhere. Only a neatly groomed thatch of pubic hair remained at the base of his cock, and his balls and ass where completely smooth. Boldly, though not without his ever-present blush, Steve ran a finger down and down and down, taking in all that smooth olive skin. “No peach fuzz,” he murmured, and a moment later, Tony guffawed and then burst into a real laugh, quickly quelled.

“That’s okay. This is nice, too.” And just as quickly Tony’s laughter died away because Steve dove down and replaced his hand with his mouth, kissing and sucking his way down Tony’s balls to his perineum and then down his crack to his hole.

Tony gasped, and kept gasping, suddenly at sea, rudderless, being washed out on the tide of Steve Rogers’ wicked tongue. Steve’s arms made their way under Tony’s hips, hitching him up for a better angle, and Tony, in turn, clutched at Steve’s hair, trying desperately to find shore again. Steve was relentless. It was so wet, so filthy, his tongue so present, his lips so soft and pliant one second, demanding the next. In and out, in and out, Tony becoming wetter and sloppier all the while.

He barely registered the click of the lube cap, but then there was new cool slickness down his balls and crack, and the sudden and welcome intrusion of Steve’s finger. Tony yelped into the close air of the bedroom and felt Steve begin to withdraw. Desperate to keep him where he was, Tony clamped down his thighs, crossing his ankles behind Steve’s head. He couldn’t catch the air to breathe, but he fought with everything in him to arch into Steve’s touch, to say with his body that Steve should stay, that Steve should love him.

Acquiescing, Steve’s finger shifted deeper, driving the cool lube in alongside his tongue. So _filthy_. Tony had a stray thought to be glad he’d cleaned up, to be glad his body was like this for their first time. And then he was swept away again, deeper, higher, slowly moving toward the crest. He didn’t want to reach it without Steve, though.

Gasping for breath, he managed to start speaking, or maybe he’d been speaking gibberish all along. Either way, he began a steady chant. “Steve, Steve, Steve, want you, inside, fuck me, Steve, need you, gonna, please, _Steve_.”

And Steve answered, amazingly, swiftly, when had he even slid the condom on? When had he lost his jeans and underwear? It didn’t matter. He was out at sea with Tony. He was inside him just like that, almost too much, and above Tony, he groaned, freezing with the first breech.

“Oh, Tony,” he whispered, his hands on Tony’s cheeks, loving, cherishing, still wet from lube and saliva. The very thought sent Tony reeling and he arched up into the heat of Steve’s body, yearning for more, deeper, harder, _now._ Steve answered, groaning and shifting his weight, getting better leverage, pressing in and in and out and in.

Sex had never been like this before. It had never left Tony feeling so utterly powerless and powerful all at once. Steve above him, sweating, ruddy faced, panting with exertion he shouldn’t be feeling given his supersoldier body. Everything about him glistened pink and wet and new, his hair in disheveled spikes from where Tony had been pulling at it. Steve filled Tony’s whole world, and took him further and further, higher and higher, sent the blood roaring in Tony’s ears like a maelstrom. Steve, fucking him in earnest, his pace relentless, the slap of skin on skin, higher and higher and higher and his hand on Tony’s cock, there, squeezing, stroking, oh god, the crest…

Tony came and came and came, bearing down on Steve as he tried and failed to catch the breath he’d lost. He didn’t care. He didn’t care. The world was a white wash of wonder and he was away, floating, never coming down. Above him, Steve groaned and grunted and bowed, his sweat dripping down onto Tony’s chest.

An eternity later, Tony did come down, though he clung to the beautiful haze of where he’d been, letting it fill his body with easy lassitude. Steve was on top of him, chest-to-chest, still inside. His warm breath spread across the thick muscle of Tony’s trapezius, which ached with the first twinges of a love bite. 

“Wow,” Tony mumbled, kissing at Steve’s ear because it was in easy reach. “Wow.” Steve turned and fumbled into a sloppy kiss, his hand running through Tony’s hair. The sweet taste of artificial peach sent Tony laughing, helplessly turning away.

“What?” Steve asked, blinking down at Tony.

“Peaches. You, my peaches.”

It took a few seconds for Steve to catch on and then he grinned, that beautiful full-chest blush spreading across his skin again. “It’s your fault. You’re the one who bought them.”

“And you’re the one who made love to them right in the middle of the kitchen.”

“And you’re the one with the perfect peach ass, so it’s definitely on you.”

“Hmm, perfect peach ass. Somehow, I suspect I’m not alone in this.” To prove his point, Tony ran his hand over the curve of Steve’s right butt cheek, appreciating the peach-fuzz coating of hair there. “Yeah. Yeah, you’ve got 100% grade-A American peach right here, too.”

Steve snorted and finally rolled off, carefully clutching at his cock to take the condom with him. He removed it, tied it off, pitched it with perfect aim into the trash can next to Tony’s desk, and then flopped down. With the heat of Steve’s body gone, Tony became instantly aware of how sticky he’d become. 

“Mm, want to join me for a bath?” He felt Steve’s gaze on his face and glanced over, only to see a flash of hesitance there. “You can tell me about your day,” Tony continued, turning so he could take in more of Steve’s expression. “I’d like to hear it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Then _you_ have to tell me about where you found those ridiculous peaches.”

“With pleasure, my peach. With pleasure.”

**Author's Note:**

> For the curious, those underwear peaches are [absolutely real](https://soranews24.com/2014/07/31/peaches-packaged-in-pairs-of-panties-provoke-protests-in-prc/), though they come from China, not Japan. [These](https://www.japan-talk.com/jt/new/momo) are the Japanese peaches I was thinking of, the most high-end of which cost roughly $200 US for 4 kilos.
> 
> This ficlet was originally posted [here](https://arukou-arukou.tumblr.com/post/185190749066/listen-i-had-a-peach-with-my-dinner-and-my-brain). Please feel free to come say hi to me [on tumblr](https://arukou-arukou.tumblr.com/).


End file.
